


Lark's Song 2

by AndreaRyan



Series: Lark's Song [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1920s, Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Meeting Again, Paris - Freeform, Smut, set around the Crimes of Grindelwald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaRyan/pseuds/AndreaRyan
Summary: Albus let out an exhausted sigh. “Why did you send me that letter? What did you think I’d do? Have you seriously thought I would come running? That I would join this lunacy? That we would pick up where we left off before you killed my sister and tortured my brother?”Gellert decided to stay silent, because what he wanted to say was: Yes, that’s what you told me in my fantasy.“Gellert,” Albus said, voice so soft it was almost the same as when he used to whisper his name late in his bed when Gellert climbed into his room. “Have you lost your mind?”This too, Albus used to say as Gellert pushed his long limbs through the window. But there was no chuckle to drown in a kiss. Now the question was serious and Gellert finally felt like it would be true when he replied, almost inaudibly: “Yes.”________Second part of the Lark's Song - should be read as a sequel. Thanks to the people who suggested I write this.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: Lark's Song [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185314
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Lark's Song 2

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for the positive response on the Lark's Song. Hopefully, you will enjoy this part.

**Lark’s Song - Part 2**

_ Lark. _

_ PS: I am coming.  _

Hope. The letter brought hope to Gellert. One he thought he needed, but now when he had it, it was more lethal than the desperation. It hurt to fall. It hurt much more when one’s bones were already broken. 

He did not think Albus would reply. He would not had asked such stupid question if he knew he would. And this. Why did he reply like this?

It was the irony of it that after all the attempts to get a reaction from him, he answered this. And it wasn’t even the fact that he replied, but that one single word, so insignificant on its own, which changed everything. 

He remembered. He remembered even this little detail, and maybe he too recalled how they kissed and touched all those years ago when they were alone and the night finally came to hide how pathetic they were. 

And now the words bolted him to the place and he could just wait.

  
  


Gellert knew something was off the moment he opened the apartment door. He reached for his wand, a smile slowly building under his pale mustache.  _ He wasn’t even trying to hide his presence. _

'Everyone out,' Gellert ordered in the doorway, not moving.

'Sir?' One of his men addressed him in confusion.

'I believe you’re not deaf,' Gellert hummed calmly, his hand still on his wand, eyes fixed on the door of the study.

'Sir,' the man replied - the addressing full of affirmation now as the man took a few steps back, followed by the rest of Gellert’s people who were present at the time. 

Slowly, Gellert walked to the study and opened the door. Albus sat on the desk, reading through some French book which was left there by the previous owner. He had his hair swept back - much shorter than Gellert remembered and with faint hints of grey which matched the shade of his suit, its jacket laid lazily over the desk. It wasn’t that warm, Albus probably wanted to show off how nicely his waistcoat fitted him, Gellert thought. 

'Did you forget I taught you how to mask traces of magic?' 

'I didn’t want to be greeted with a curse in my face.' Albus put the book down and stood up, hands in his pockets.

'It is a pretty face.'

'So you used to tell me.'

'It took you ages to get here,' Gellert said, trying his best to sound nonchalant while studying each crease and edge of Albus’ face. 

'I had other things to worry about.' Albus looked down at the book on the desk.

Gellert resisted a scoff.  _ I should be your priority. _ He nearly said.  _ Am I not doing enough to land on the top of your list? _

'Of course,' Gellert muttered instead. 'Your career. I would almost forget - you are a Professor Dumbledore now. Who would have guessed?'

'You haven’t changed at all - you are still an annoying arrogant bastard,' Albus said, shaking his head, lips slowly lifting into a smile. 

'I thought you used to find me charming.'

'Well thirty years ago I used to think that top hats and floor length coats were stylish.'

'What’s wrong with long coats?' Gellert asked, tugging on the hem of his coat defensively.

'They are a bit too much.'

'Is that a way of trying to get me to take it off?'

Albus rolled his eyes. 'Unbelievable.'

Gellert took a step closer to Albus, a part of him expecting a curse in his face, but it seemed that Albus had as little intention to cast it as Gellert.

'We haven’t seen each other for decades - do you really think I came here to sleep with you?' Albus asked, voice as disappointed as if he was his student who failed to answer a basic question.

'Well, you are hardly here to catch up on gossip and exchange new recipes.' Gellert watched Albus carefully as he turned his back to him and walked to the library, fingers tracing the titles. When did he learn French? Was he fluent? Was it for work? Did he learn other languages, too? What did French sound like on his tongue?

Albus pulled out one of the books, turning it so he could read the back. 'I have a new recipe for rosemary bread. I could write it down for you. It’s an easy spell, but I doubt you would need it in jail.'

Gellert ignored the remark about jail. 'I like rosemary.'

Albus nodded and returned the book to its place. 'I know.'

'You will not arrest me,' Gellert said finally.

Albus hummed softly as if in agreement, but it was followed with: 'I will. Why else would I come?'

_ To see me, you idiot. To ask me what I remember. To kiss me.  _

Gellert extended his arms, wrists touching each other as his eyebrows rose up. 'Will you tie my hand or should I do it?'

'Could you please be serious?' 

'I am absolutely serious,' Gellert replied, still holding his wrists together. 

He knew that the Albus in front of him was not the Albus he left. He also knew that a part of him was the same part he used to press to his chest when they were one. There was also a part of Albus which lied to never want to see Gellert again, but here he was.

Gellert let his hands drop. 'No handcuffs then,' he muttered, looking around the room. 'Do you like the library?'

'The poor person you stole it from had a good taste.'

'How do you know I was not the one who picked the books?'

'You don’t have good taste.' 

'I liked you,' Gellert reminded, offended. 

'Exactly. We both have a terrible taste.' Albus let out an exhausted sigh. 'Why did you send me that letter? What did you think I’d do? Have you seriously thought I would come running? That I would join this lunacy? That we would pick up where we left off before you killed my sister and tortured my brother?' 

Gellert decided to stay silent, because what he wanted to say was:  _ Yes, that’s what you told me in my fantasy.  _

'Gellert,' Albus said, voice so soft it was almost the same as when he used to whisper his name late in his bed when Gellert climbed into his room. 'Have you lost your mind?' 

This too, Albus used to say as Gellert pushed his long limbs through the window. But there was no chuckle to drown in a kiss. Now the question was serious and Gellert finally felt like it would be true when he replied, almost inaudibly: 'Yes.' 

Silence. More silence. More unbearable quiet and Albus’ eyes which looked at him in regret. 

Gellert took a step forward, just to see Albus’ reaction. When he didn’t do anything, Gellert dared to go even closer until they were as close as they once used to be. 

When they were younger, they would use any excuse to stand as close as possible, hands brushing together as by accident. It was still surprising that it took so long to get someone to discover them and that the person was Aberforth. 

'If you are going to arrest me, can we just get on with it?'

'You know, I was sure this was a trap,' Albus admitted. 'I was sure you were playing with me once more, for the last time. Last game.' 

_ It was a game, it was a trick, but not the one you expected.  _

'Then why did you come?' Gellert asked, his curiosity honest.

'I think I just wanted to see for myself.'

'What?' 

'How much you’ve changed.'

Gellert frowned at this, suddenly feeling vulnerable under Albus’ gaze.  _ How the roles reversed… _

'And?' he demanded, impatient. 

'I don’t know. I cannot read you no matter how much I try. Maybe you have - if this really isn’t a trap.' 

Gellert scoffed. 'When did I trick you like that, hm?'

Albus lifted his chin higher. Gellert knew this move, he remembered it. He was breaking, this was just a pretence. Albus was as impacted by this as Gellert. Maybe they were on the same page now. Finally, after so many years. 

'Wasn’t that our whole relationship?' 

'What?' Gellert breathed out, taking a step back. 'You think it was a game to me? That you were?' 

It was Albus’ turn to scoff. 'Wasn’t I? You were only using my weakness to get what you wanted.' 

'What are you talking about? I have lied and killed and I have tricked and stolen, but I have never pretended to love someone. Not once.'

Albus swallowed, loud and visible, then lifted his head even higher and it would almost look ridiculous if he didn’t look so well. The air in the room got heavy as if there was a storm coming onto them. 

'Would I remember if it was a game?' Gellert asked, voice getting louder until it became a thunder. 'Would I have remembered the lark?' 

A single tear rained down Albus’ cheek. The storm was here. 'It was a game,' Albus insisted, his voice absent of all its previous strength and confidence. 

'It was never a game,' Gellert said through gritted teeth. 'You were never a game to me.' 

Albus’ lips parted to say something more, but Gellert pressed his lips on his in a testament. Even if he was arrested, even if he were to be executed this very day, this would be clear. 

Few seconds were all the time that passed before Albus pushed him away. 'Don’t play with me again!' he shouted.

'What do I have to do to prove I am not? Why is it so hard for you to believe that I would actually have feelings for you?'

'Because you are bad. You are the villain. If you knew how to love, how could you do the things you have?' 

'There are no villains and there are no heroes. There are just people and their decisions.

'Isn’t it what villains say?' 

'You are not a hero, Albus.'

Instead of a curse, punch in the face or a slap over his mouth, Albus kissed him. 

Even when they were dating, Albus would rarely initiate a kiss, it was usually Gellert who demanded his lips, clawed at his clothes and begged to have Albus squirming under him. 

Albus grabbed his coat, turned them around - harshly, not like lovers do - and he pushed him against the desk, too shocked by the action to do anything else than to give in. 

'I hate that coat. It’s terrible,' Albus said, pushing it away. 

Gellert stood up straight to remove it, then placed his hands on Albus’ waistcoat. 'This is terrible, too,' he lied. 'It doesn’t suit you at all.'

With those words, the waistcoat landed on the ground and Albus pushed him more into the desk, its wooden edge digging into Gellert’s lower back. He climbed onto it, just so he could pull Albus close and settle him between his legs as he put one hand on the back of his neck and other on his waist. 

The papers on the desk ended scattered on the ground with their clothes as Gellert found himself on his back, Albus bowing over him, planting kisses over his chest as if they really loved each other, as if they really had a future. As if becoming one would change something. 

  
  


They sat on the ground, leaning against the desk, panting. Gellert reached for Albus’ hand, but the man shied away. They looked at each other, lips swollen, eyes full of tears. Gellert  tried again, this time Albus let him. 

'I will not arrest you today,' Albus said.

Gellert’s chest tightened he wished they would talk about anything else, that the moment would mean more than a slip into temptation. 

'Because of what we did?' 

Albus shook his head and gestured towards the window. 'Because there’s a lark singing outside.' 

Gellert looked in the same direction, listening closely until he discovered the soft song between their heavy breaths and the rumble of the street.

'Some other time then?' Gellert whispered.

'Some other time,' Albus agreed.

Outside, the lark’s song was coming to an end.


End file.
